Reality

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“Where are the stories when I close my book?” George asks his father. “In the book.” “But Andrew is reading the same book. And in his story the baron is living in an old fortress and in mine in a beautiful castle. But as it is the same book, you know…” “Well, then your inner images are different…” “And these inner images are created in my head?” “Yes.” “And the stories consist of the images in my head?” “Yes” “But then, why do you claim that the stories are in the closed book?”

Spinning

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Do you know the Grimm’s tale of Rumpelstilzkin? Here’s an article that Kathy published today in her food blog… And maybe you will find another thing… or person… in it that seems familiar to you… have fun reading it!

And… thanks, Kathy!

They’re Fine

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I saw an image in front of me, like a dream in the middle of the day. A little hut, thatched with straw, at the edge of a village, far away in the savannah of Africa. In front of the hut children were playing, and in the house a mother was occupied with cleaning and tidying up some things of daily life. I saw this picture, and I knew for sure: This is the family of my neighbour from Kenya. And suddenly I understood: “They’re fine”. A strange daydream – should I tell my neighbour about it? I forgot the inner image and turned towards my everyday work. Three days later I thought of this scene again, and of the sentence: “They’re fine.” Could this have any meaning? I went to my neighbour. “I must tell you something. I had a strange dream. I don’t know what you think about it…” So I told him. The man from Africa looked at me with solemn but happy eyes. Then it burst out of him: “I thank you from the bottom of my heart! My family has been writing a letter to me every day so far. But now I haven’t heard anything from them for a whole week. I have been so anxious! What you have told me is of great importance to me! Thank you…” It is as easy as this to become a postman.

The New Mercedes

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“Your new Mercedes has arrived. You can pick it up from us straight away.” Brief and businesslike, the voice on the telephone reported this occasionevent. For the Brüderle family this was a day of celebration which they would spend with the whole family. One didn’t buy a new car every day! They decided to celebrate by visiting the safari park next to the motorway on the way back.

They drove through the compound in their shiny new car. A highlight was the elephants. They could see them from quite near. Mr Brüderle wound down the window in order to photograph them. One look through the open window and: Slap! The elephant had already knocked the camera out of his hand. Then the beast stretched its trunk deep into the vehicle. Was there something to eat in here? Mrs Brüderle and the children were thoroughly examined by its soft, smelling apparatus. The mood in the car alternated between disgust and horror. Something must be done! But what? Mr Brüderle had an idea. Quite slowly he wound up the window so as to give the elephant a gentle warning to pull back its trunk. However, the elephant did not follow this hint, at least not before giving the car a good kick.

When they got to the exit of the park, the Brüderle family regarded the damage. A huge dent had appearedwas to be seen! In order to soothe themselves the parents drank beer and the children had ice-cream. Then they made their way home. After a while a car followed them which drovedriving zigzag like a snake. The vehicle drove off the road to the right and after a short drive across a field, came to a halt. The Brüderle family stopped to help. It just so happened that the driver of the car had had an epileptic fit. Mrs Brüderle took care of the patient while Mr Brüderle called the police and ambulance.

“Were you also involved in the accident?” asked the policeman, who recorded the accident. “No”, replied Mr Brüderle. “Where did this huge dent in your car come from then?” the policeman wanted to know. “An elephant kicked it in”, was the answer. Dumbfounded, the policeman looked him in the eyes. “Blow in here please…” That day Mr Brüderle lost his driving licence.

Ready

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“Ready”, called the egg when it was laid. “Now I’m ready!” called the tadpole when it had hatched. “Now I’m completely ready!” called the creature,animal when it had two legs. “Now, finally, I’m absolutely completely ready!” called the creature when it had four legs and a long tail. “Who knows what else might come…”, said the frog, when it was ready.

Forgiving the Russian

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In my village there is an old man, who again and again tells of how he fled with nothing more than the shirt on his back, because the occupying Russian troops had taken everything he owned and his house and yard in order to give it to others. He said: “I cannot forgive the Russians.” The man lives in a beautiful house with a balcony and a large garden. His favourite pastime is watching his great-grandchildren play.

Winnowing

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In countries where a strong wind sweeps across the land and makes the fields fruitful, there is a custom among the farmers that is called winnowing. Every year, after the harvest, when they have threshed the corn, they bring it outside in front of the barn. They all throw the grain into the air. The good, heavy kernels fall to the ground, while the light chaff is carried away by the wind. The hardest work is done by the wind. Who knows if one can also winnow thoughts?

The King’s Speech

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When the king had spoken, everyone went home. “What did the king talk about?” asked the soldier’s wife. “About the strength of our country”, he answered. “What did the king talk about?” asked the salesman’s wife. “About the wealth of our country”, he answered. “What did the king talk about?” asked the poet’s wife. “About the beauty of our country”, he said. “What did the king talk about?”, asked the farmer’s wife. “About the fertility of our country”, he answered. “What did you talk about then?” asked the king’s wife. “About the diversity of our country”, he said.

An Army for Peace!

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Do you also find that there are too many unhappy people in the world? Then I would like to tell you a story related to this.. In a large town, there lived a man who had a special trait. He could not bear to see people in misery. Perhaps that would not be worth mentioning, since there are many people who see themselves in this situation these days. But this man had a second trait. He had done everything he could to relieve the misery of the poorest people. He had, together with his friends and later co-fighters, helped hundreds of thousands to lead a worthy life.

The man asked himself: Why are some people so successful, when killing and destruction are concerned? Why do armies work more effectively than churches and many social organisations? And he decided to create his own army; a strict organisation with officers and soldiers, with flags and uniform. An army for peace. The war aim of this army was, so it was said, “to save at all cost the population of the slums which is threatened to go under in a sea of debauchery, alcoholism and vice”. That certainly did not please many pub landlords and pimps. The “soldiers” of the Salvation Army were attacked and often wounded; three of them were even killed. Gradually the persecution stopped. The Salvation Army remained in existence and continued to work against prostitution and pimping, homelessness, and the consequences of war, according to their Christian conviction. Their position was: “We want peace. There are enough calls for peace, but the evil in the world does not react to well-intentioned appeals. Conflict, strife, fear and desperation cannot be fought with admonitions, they demand a true fight!”